Reclaiming Valentine’s Day For All

When I was little, Valentine’s Day meant preparing hand-crafted cards for all the other kids in my class, plus my teacher. I would make 27-32 items, often using class time to practice the skills of cutting, pasting, lettering, and planning, to make them all by the deadline of Feb. 14. I got good at making sure I had the base materials labeled for each of the people I wanted to honor on Valentine’s Day. I also learned how important it is to prioritize the creation of the items so that something was prepared.

I found how spending too much time on certain things meant that I would not be able to spend enough time on something I wanted to save for last. When I spent time making the crafts for everyone else, I would have to skimp on that special card for that one person I really wanted to feel special. The next year, I found that if I did spend too much time on that one special card, then multiple someones would get a barely pasted-together card.

These are great life skills that I still use in my life today, although I work less now with paste and I’m no longer tempted to ‘sample’ it like I did along with all the other kids.

As I grew into adulthood, teachers no longer provided class time to set our focus on such niceties. I also noticed that we stopped focusing on making sure everyone felt included. We stepped into a culture of exclusion – the very atmosphere in which many people have come to dread Valentine’s Day because they don’t have a “special someone” in their life.

A friend recently pointed out that the focus of Feb. 14 by many adults is exclusively geared towards that one, and only one, special someone in their life.

To me, taking back control of Valentine’s Day as the day of love (toward all) means allowing the present societal norms to fade. There are times when we will have a special someone, and there are some of us who are lucky enough to have many special someones. But even in those times when we have no one, we still have ourselves.

Why not make the day about loving whoever is close? And will I/can I shower myself with love as the object of my affection, instead of allowing the societal concepts to shift my focus onto something or someone external?

To celebrate this year’s Valentine’s Day, I personally relabeled it “Gal-in-times” day (I may have subconsciously be influenced by Amy Poehler.) I sent heartfelt messages to some of my best friends with a note about how they had been with me through times of joy, distress, or simple, daily things like morning coffees, truly embodying a “Gal in times” of grief, happiness, and life adventures.

I also chose to not send the note to one of my best friends who has been especially wounded by the day and its societal pressures around that special someone – because when I did that a few years ago it backfired and they ended up feeling attacked.

Becoming conscious of my friends’ wounds is also part of being a “Gal-in-times.” And what’s more, in the spirit of wider inclusion, moving forward I will call my celebration “Pal-in-times.”

In short, I want to make my life about celebrating the richness that others bring to my life, regardless of the status assigned. Every relationship is invaluable to my process of becoming the best version of myself, and I want to celebrate that.